


Stubborn In Love

by confxsed



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Attempt at Humor, Everybody Lives, F/M, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-08
Updated: 2015-11-08
Packaged: 2018-04-30 14:50:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5167901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/confxsed/pseuds/confxsed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dwalin is entirely unimpressed with the romantic choices of the three sons of Durin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stubborn In Love

Before he started the journey to reclaim the Lonely Mountain, Dwalin never would have believed he would one day be standing in the great hall of Erebor, listening to cheerful music and watching dwarves celebrate through dance. And yet, here they were, the entire company alive and well. It was more than he ever could have wished for.

Dwalin imagined that the great hall had once looked magnificent. It was a vast, open room with a high ceiling, long pillars carved with intricate patterns and ancient tapestries lining the walls. Although the dwarves had done their best to clean it, there had not been quite enough time to completely get rid of the dust and cobwebs that had settled over the kingdom, and a faint dragon smell still lingered.

And yet, no one seemed to mind. The hall was filled with bright smiles and excited voices – everyone was thrilled that the company had succeeded in reclaiming their long forgotten home. As Dwalin watched the celebrations unfold around him, and resisted tapping his foot along with the music, he understood that Thorin had made the right choice in not waiting longer to do this.

Dwalin felt a hand clasp his shoulder and turned to find Balin holding out a tankard of ale. He took the drink with a nod of gratitude.

“I do not think I have ever seen our King smile so wide,” Balin said, gesturing to where Thorin stood.

Dwalin looked over to see Thorin standing with his hand on Bilbo’s shoulder, gazing at him with an amused sort of pride as the hobbit engaged in conversation with a number of dwarves around him.

“Who would have thought that our grumpy leader would end up Bilbo of all people,” Dwalin smirked. “Ridiculous. Honestly, this whole situation is ridiculous.”

“Well, as we have failed to convince Thorin that Bilbo is not an appropriate match for the King, we may as well accept that they will marry eventually.”

It was not as if either he or Balin did not like Bilbo, Dwalin thought; they both loved the hobbit. But, as a King, Dwalin was adamant that Thorin should be marrying a dwarf. Dwalin had loved to pester Thorin about finding a dwarf-woman, as it was very amusing to hear Thorin yell to anyone who could hear about why Bilbo more than deserved to be at his side. Dwalin only stopped once Dis had arrived and threatened to knock him out if he annoyed her brother one more time. And if Dwalin was being honest with himself, the way Bilbo looked this night, dressed as royalty, there was really no way anyone could think he did not look a worthy partner for the King. Perhaps it was because Dwalin knew the courage that lay in the heart of the hobbit, but he thought tonight Bilbo possessed a very regal bearing.

Dwalin sighed, “I still think it would have been easier if Thorin chose a dwarf.”

Dwalin looked back over to see that Thorin and Bilbo were now alone. When Bilbo stood on the tips of his toes to press a kiss to the King’s cheek, Dwalin snorted at the look of adoration on Thorin’s face. “Honestly, a hobbit? What was he thinking? I assume he no longer cares about having an heir of his own.”

“Oh, let him have his fun. As for heirs, he still has his nephews, doesn’t he?” Balin clapped him on the back before turning on his heel and walking over to where Gloin stood with his young son Gimli.

That is right, Dwalin thought, once Thorin passed Fili would be next in line to be King. Dwalin supposes they should all be very lucky it is Fili who is the elder instead of Kili. For Kili seems to have followed in Thorin’s footsteps in deciding not to pursue a dwarf as a partner.

Dwalin narrowed his eyes as he attempted to find Kili in the crowd of dwarves. This proved to be quite easy, as his companion was a good deal taller than almost everyone in the room.

There she was, that red-headed elf Kili had adored since first laying eyes on her. Dwalin was forced to restrain himself from rolling his eyes as Kili grabbed Tauriel’s hand and pulled her onto the dancefloor, twirling her around in a way that looked silly with their height difference.

A crowd had begun to gather around the two. Some of the onlookers seemed entertained, and some horrified, but most, Dwalin thought, just seemed bemused.

Dwalin is pretty certain many of the dwarves who have joined the company in taking residence at Erebor thought Kili was mad. Dwalin himself half thought Kili was mad. What in Mahal’s name does he see in an _elf_? And he thought being with a hobbit was ridiculous!

Sculling his drink to get the image of Kili’s lovesick look out of his mind, Dwalin focused his thoughts onto the other son of Durin. Thank Mahal Fili had some sort of sense in him. Fili was always the responsible one, the rock that kept his much-too-emotional-for-their-own-good family from getting in too much trouble.

Yes, Fili was a good heir, Dwalin decided. Perhaps it was more fitting that it would be Fili, and not Thorin, to carry out the Durin line. With his golden hair and fair looks, the young dwarf looked more like a Prince than any dwarf he ever met. Yes, Fili will marry a dwarf and have many dwarflings, Dwalin was certain of it.

There were many dwarf women here Fili should be talking to, Dwalin observed. Dwalin looked around the room until his gaze settled on a dark-haired dwarf looking very pretty with a nice beard and well-done braids. Dwalin thought she would be a very fine fit for the Prince. He should introduce them to each other – set a good example for what is expected of him, seeing as the rest of his family weren’t.

Dwalin spotted Ori examining one of the tapestries, his fingers hovering over them excitedly, as if he were trying to map them out in his mind. Dwalin approached him, ignoring his jump of fright when he thumped his hand onto the younger dwarf’s shoulder.

“Durin’s beard! You frightened me, Dwalin,” Ori squeaked.

“Ori, I was wondering if you might know where Fili is? I have half a mind to introduce him to that lass over there,” Dwalin indicated the dark-haired dwarf with an inclination of his head.

“Oh, I think I saw him go outside earlier.”

“Thanks, Ori,” Dwalin grinned before turning towards the balcony.

Dwalin slipped outside, closing his eyes against the cool breeze that played over his face. He thought he understood why Fili may have come out here – it was a nice break from the noise and enthusiasm of the celebration behind him.

Dwalin spotted Fili leaning with his hands against the railing, looking out over the destroyed lake-town and – _oh dear_.

Dwalin is now entirely certain that someone is playing a joke on him. Maybe one of his ancestors offended a son of Durin so greatly that they decided he would have to endure this as punishment.

For Fili stood there looking out at the night sky with none other than the new Princess of Dale. The very _human_ Princess of Dale. Sigrid was gesturing animatedly while she spoke and Fili was looking at her with the same sort of infatuated expression Dwalin had been repeatedly subjected to seeing on Thorin and Kili. Dwalin was beginning to associate that look with a feeling of nausea.

There goes the one chance of the line of Durin enduring. A hobbit, an elf and a woman. Dwalin had to wonder if they were doing this purposely just to spite everyone.

Thinking back, Dwalin has come to the conclusion that the entire journey, including almost getting eaten by trolls, being imprisoned by the Mirkwood elves, sitting in barrels of fish and having to look at Azog’s ugly face more often than he’d like to remember, was far less annoying than dealing with the Durins in love.

When Fili gently placed his hand over Sigrid’s and she looked down at him with a delighted smile, Dwalin decided that the line of Durin were the most ludicrous dwarves he ever had the misfortune of meeting. Trying to suppress the fond smile that was threatening to form on his face, Dwalin rolled his eyes and stomped back into the hall.

“I need another drink.”


End file.
